Surreal continuing story: walking through doors and passageways

[NDP]

“Well, with regard to your second question, Rita had a one-way crush on Andrew Sharp a few years ago. She still resents Joanie for ‘stealing’ Andrew away from her. As for your first question, Rita didn’t come here because she was sent by someone but instead because she was trying to get away from someone. I don’t know exactly who, but Leo thinks the person might also be behind Maya Kalp’s assault by that druggie in Billings and that unknown well-dressed man who later sprang him.”

“I’ll tell the higher-ups with the DXM League about that,” Fred says. “They’ll get somebody on it (if they haven’t already).”

“I was also wondering about something,” Al adds. “The other aliens who were trapped in the sub-basement just got picked up by a spaceship. I talked to one of short, gray, big-brained guys on the ship and he mentioned they earlier picked up you and Alice by mistake. Is that true?”

“Yes,” Alice admits.

“Well, anyway, on the ship was this big sea-serpent-looking creature who asked me if I could give him three-fifty. He then tried to beg three-fifty from Red and other aliens before he got back on the ship. Did you meet him too?”

“Yes,” I sigh.

“Who was that?”

“The Loch Ness Moocher,” Alice answers.

We all sign off from Al and Leo. Salbert speaks up with a suggestion on what we should do…

[dougie_monty]

“Check out that man who owned the Morpheus before Jack Sharp bought it.”
“Jared Smedley,” says Jack, who is present.

“Is that his name? Oh well…that helps, “ says Salbert. “You may want to find out where he has been in recent years, though he was already 60 years old when Jack bought the place from him.”
“Well, perhaps Professor Fields or Mr. Bartholomew can find out who bailed out that druggie in Billings,” says Alice, clinging to me. “What was the name of that broker in Billings, that Maya Kalp was visiting?”

“Pollard Chillington,” I say. “I saw him in 1996 when I was on a jury panel in Los Angeles. Slight little balding man. He was a co-plaintiff in a civil case. He seemed to be a nice enough guy.”
“Well, we’ll just have to identify the assailant’s bondsman in Billings,” says Salbert. We look on as Artie Brown uses a large pitchfork to lift a bale of hay over a short fence to Salbert’s burro Loochy, in the side lot. Salbert pays Artie for the hay and the effort.

I suddenly remember—“Oh, there were two other potential jurors on that panel—Nate Strong, Jeanette’s brother, and—Rita Waterford! I saw them talking briefly but the panel was excused from the courthouse that day. Nate had long since stopped menacing me—he had mellowed. He used to get mad at me for dating his sister. In fact the last time I saw him he was really jovial. I don’t know where he went. I’ll ask Jeanette. She’ll know where he has been. I bet he and Rita could have hit it off if they hadn’t been separated when the panel was excused…”
“Well, I’m glad to know that the DXM League—maybe that Mr. Bartholomew—will find out about that bondsman in Billings.” Alice, again, pushes her bust against my arm and starts to look me in the eye so I’ll notice that her pupils are getting big. Now Stan and Joe approach.
“We fixed that casement window Rita bent,” they say. “Arnold Schwarzenegger couldn’t get in now, unless he had a Civil War cannon with him!”

“Are there any other windows like that in the Morpheus?” Alice asks. She pushes even closer to me. She is getting me so randy…
“No, that’s the only one,” Says Stan. “There are no other windows in the entire building that don’t face fenced-in lots. There are no windows facing the Starbuck’s or the hairdresser’s place, for example.” That’s good to know.

Jock and Hermione return. Winifred is in the black-and-white, on patrol. Jock says, “Rita’s all right. Fionnula [Jock’s sister; a senior nurse in the emergency ward] has been assigned to Rita. She was sedated but she came out of it just fine.”
“I wish Nate could visit her,” I say.

“What about Nate?” asks Jeanette, walking up to Alice and me and jiggling and swiveling, as usual, with each step. I grip Alice’s hand firmly to let her know this big woman is not going to distract me from her. Jeanette is quite polite, despite her flannel dress that leaves scarcely anything to the imagination.
I explain about Rita and Nate.

Jeanette smiles. “Nate’s all right. He did a hitch in the Air Force. He lives in San Francisco now. He runs a music publishing company. In fact he has come to some of my performances—when he has had the time. And he sure isn’t angry with you for dating me. [Hey, I already knew that.] I guess he caught on that flaunting the boobs and derriere was my own idea. And every now and then he’ll mention how he misses seeing Rita—how he wishes she would come back. He never married.” Jeanette now politely excuses herself and swivels off, to return to the rehearsals, which are nearly complete now.

I know Alice wants to finalize the program with the others in the steering committee. But Eloise and Mary have gone back to the mansion, for routine matters.
Now Alice and I return to the dressing room we found Rita in. The lone window is repaired; I guess Stan is right that nobody can get in. It’s nice and solid.

Alice and I decide to discuss the recent events, such as Rita, the bondsman in Montana, and so on, even as we start turning each other on. As we’ve done so often. We sit on the bed and quietly remove each other’s socks and shoes.

Then we start on each other’s slacks. I have a throbbing hardon now and Alice realizes it. So we continue with the lovemaking and the discussion, quite articulate and absorbing, at the same time.

[NDP]

Suddenly, at a rather intense moment, Alice yells out something in a strange unidentifiable language. I would’ve asked her what she was saying had this been a more relaxed situation. But this, of course, was not such a situation so I waited until our carnal activities concluded and we were fully dressed.

“Alice, what was that thing you were shouting about earlier?” I ask her.

“Did I really yell about something?” she asks me back. “I seemed to have lost mentally lost track of things for awhile. I thought I was dreaming.”

“No, you were definitely screaming about something for a little while. Exactly what I couldn’t tell because it was in some sort of foreign language I couldn’t make out.”

“Well, if it’s the language I’m thinking I might’ve uttered in passion, there’s a good reason why you couldn’t identify it.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s a dead language.”

“Like Latin? Because I know a little bit of Latin and it didn’t sound like Latin at all.”

“It wasn’t Latin. In fact, the language is even more dead than Latin (if that’s possible).”

“What language is it?”

“Kernuak.”

“Kernuak? Never heard of it.”

“It’s also called Cornish.”

“Still never heard of it.”

“It’s a Celtic language that was spoken by the people who lived Cornwall, Devon and West Somerset.”

“Is that in Britain?”

“Yes–the southwestern part of the island to be exact. Anyway, the language died out around 1900 but there are efforts to try to bring it back.”

“So how–and why–did you get to know it?”

“Well, as I told you before, part of family tree on both my father’s and mother’s side comes from Cornwall. I’ve always been good with languages and, when I was around 11, I got really interested in learning about my Cornish ancestors and the Cornish language.”

“That’s an odd interest for an 11 year old.”

“My brothers felt the same way and used to tease me about it. But I didn’t care. I was used to being a bit different than other girls my age by that time.”

“So what exactly were you saying in Cornish?”

Alice pauses for a second. Apparently the recent memory of what exactly she said in the language is already hazy to her. However, she eventually remembers and says…

[dougie_monty]

“Eternal love.” :o
I smile and we embrace. After we got dressed we sat on an upholstered bench in the dressing room.

We just sit there for a little while, until it’s time to go back to the stage. Meanwhile, I admit to Alice I had heard something about Cornwall: I owned some language books written by Mario Pei, which identified Cornish as an extinct Indo-European language; one of Isaac Asimov’s books suggested that the fabled “tin isles” of the Phoenicians in fact could be identified as the southwest extremity of England, the region known as Cornwall; and I had met an elderly blind man in 1972; he was Cornish.

Now I say something in another language.
“Karulino.”

“What’s that?” asks Alice, still in a close embrace with me. I see serenity in those big brown eyes.
“That’s ‘dear woman’ in Esperanto.”

“Oh yes,” says Alice, kissing me. “I’ve heard Salbert using that language.” She snickers slightly. “He speaks to that burro in Esperanto.”
Now the familiar figure of Mary Blonda, in her usual clothing, appears in the door. She has her two sons Bobby and George in tow.

“Back to work,” she says.
Alice and I look around to make sure we haven’t left anything (and that Rita didn’t leave anything in the room either). Satisfied, we return with Mary and her boys to the stage area.

The full steering committee meets, including Alice, Eloise, Mary, and Johnny Goss. They ask me to key up and print a program on the computer in Jack’s office in the Morpheus, once they’ve penciled it out on Mary’s legal pad and clipboard.
Meanwhile, all of us have chores. Eloise asked me to run the floor polisher on the stage. The fifteen Sharp kids, along with Andrew’s wife Joanie and Olivia, who still keeps company with Carl and Eddie (oh, how those Sharp boys look alike!) use upholstery shampoo on the seats. Phil Ramírez takes tuning fork, damping wedge, and piano wrench to tune the piano; and so on.

Arthur and Daniel have come, to assist with installing and adjusting sound equipment, as well as a security camera system, and some special safety features. They also install a video camera pointing toward the stage, so Nicholas can watch the performance on his big TV.
I talk with them and Jack Sharp for a little while.
Jack asks me, “Why were you worried about that pipe along the wall downstage?”

“I suspected it might be part of a Watergate-style bugging setup,” I say, remembering what I had installed in the Terwilligers’ utility shed. “The things that have happened here…”
Arthur and Daniel scoff. Jack smiles and says, “Stan and Joe and I can locate stuff like that. Remember, we were in military counterintelligence.”

Now Fred Moreland approaches with another visitor, whom I recognize. It’s Nate Strong, Jeanette’s brother. He’s big and brawny, like Jock, whom he meets and greets halfway down the aisle. Jeanette, who has been tuning her guitar with Phil’s help onstage, now runs down to greet Nate, her outlandish body shimmying.
She introduces Nate to all present. (Only Nicholas, the Hellmouth critters, Leo, and the boys on patrol outside are not present.) Nate approaches and greets me, too. No more of this Big-Moose-and-Midge type hostility.

Jack approaches, with Eloise and George Galloway. Apparently they want to break the news to Nate, about Rita Waterford, recuperating in the hospital (she was severely malnourished and may have had a flu bug), and attended by Jock’s sister Fionnula.
Alice and the others of the steering committee continue their discussion. A few of the women scream, and then laugh, when they see Buster chase a mouse up one aisle. Harry Rudolph is present, preparing advertising and publicity for the benefit, as requested by Messrs. Galloway and Sharp.

Now I sit, somewhat isolated, with Arthur and Daniel. Their soccer team just won again this morning, 5-1. They’ve showered and wear ordinary street clothes, like me.
Arthur, well on his way to leaving his mechanic’s job for a career as a lawyer, is, as I might expect, more mature in temperament than his younger brother Daniel, he of the impudent quips. (Arthur had his own impression about the wings Alice, Hermione, and I have—and, for all I know at this point, Winifred also has. Alice and Hermione themselves told Arthur about the wings.) Both brothers had scoffed at Alice’s relationship with me in the beginning, but, what with the various incidents at the Terwilligers’ home, and at the Morpheus and elsewhere, the brothers now show me some respect.

We talk for a while about the soccer game; Arthur’s budding legal career; and Alice’s talking car. Both Arthur and Daniel had assisted Alice’s librarian friend Jill MacMillan in setting up, and installing, the “interactive voice system,” as they call it, in the car.
Then I decide to discuss Alice herself, sidestepping Terwilliger family confidences and the personal relationship she and I have. So I bring up a routine question.

“When did Alice learn Cornish?” I ask. “She used a Cornish phrase to me when we were in the dressing room.”
The brothers snicker slightly when they sense what Alice and I had been doing in the dressing room, but they explain. Arthur, of course, speaks first.

[NDP]

“Alice learned Cornish when she was around 11 or 12,” he explains. “It was entirely her idea. She learned that part of our family came from Cornwall, got interested in Cornish history, and decided to learn the language.”

“We used to kid her pretty hard about it,” Daniel adds. “You have to admit–family tree not withstanding, it’s a strange choice. I can’t think of a more obscure language to learn.”

“Maybe Coptic,” mentions Arthur.

“Alice knows a little bit of that too.”

“That’s right. How many languages does she know anyway?”

“Let’s see. She speaks English, French, German, Spanish, Italian, Welsh, Gaelic, Cornish, Breton, and Latin. She also knows some Russian, Greek, Coptic, Hebrew, and probably some others I can’t think of right now.”

“She’s a walking Berlitz course,” I comment.

“Picking up languages is one of her strong points,” Daniel states. “Ever since she first learned to speak.”

“But, getting back to the Cornish,” Arthur says, “Alice was going through a rather moody phase and, after Daniel and I kept calling her ‘owl eyes,’ she stopped speaking English and, for what seemed like several weeks, would talk to us only in Cornish. It wasn’t until Mum and Dad stepped in and said they were going to take her in for therapy did Alice start speaking English again. Although, I think it was mainly because she getting bored with the whole thing.”

“Did you ever hear her speak Cornish after that?”

“Rarely,” answers Daniel. “It’s a pretty dead language so there’s not much call for it.”

“However,” Arthur add. “Alice did mention using it when she was doing intelligence work–part of a secret code she developed. And … well … Alice will also speak Cornish during certain situations.”

“What type of situations?”

A grin breaks across Daniel’s face when I ask this question. Arthur does likewise but manages to quickly suppress his. He then takes a deep breath and tells me…

[dougie_monty]

“…when she feels totally at ease with someone. To sum it up, she would like to marry you, _______, and settle down and raise a family.”
This is a tremendous thought.

I muse over what Arthur has just told me—and pause. In a matter of a few seconds I muse about this:
I have felt so close to Alice ever since the day we met in the college admissions building. My interest in Jeanette Strong had waned because of Nate’s interference and her cigar habit. Well, she still smokes cigars, but not so often. And Nate is nice to me now. Arthur and Daniel—Daniel especially—might be cynical if I had kept company with Jeanette, because of her looks and apparent lack of sexual inhibition. As for Alice, she pretty much stopped smoking after the sniper incident, and her brothers did nothing worse than scoff at me courting—that has to be the right word—their sister.

The brothers surely know about the other women, such as Ms. McKenna and Dr. Clouse, who have caught my eye. But the reality is that when they see me, it’s Alice who is clinging to me.
If Daniel had said Alice wanted to marry me, I’d shrug it off; his joking manner being what it is. Arthur is another matter.

There seems no doubt in my mind that Alice’s family is well-heeled, though not to the extent that the Galloways or the Sharps are. And my family isn’t exactly hurting for money, either. Still, my parents insisted my brothers and sister and I learn a vocation, and it’s clear Paul and Eda did likewise with their kids. Arthur certainly has succeeded in three endeavors—soccer, auto repair, and law; and Daniel could probably be a stand-up comic if he chose to do so. Alice could probably go into any field of endeavor and succeed.
The notion that Alice wants to tie the knot with me is overwhelming. That I should hear about it first from her brothers is a bit bizarre. Obviously I’m going to want to talk to her about this—in an oblique and certainly highly diplomatic manner.

I sit there and close my eyes. This notion is so… I can’t think of the right word… I start to lose my composure… my love for Alice… …oh… I just break down. It’s too much for me.
Arthur is considerate enough to offer me some paper napkins (we’re sitting on a bench; some of the Sharp kids took a snack break from shampooing the seat upholstery and there was a napkin holder on a small table by the bench). I dry my eyes. I myself had sensed Alice might want to marry me. I ask, after pulling myself together, “Did she have relationships that reached that point before?”

“Only twice,” says Daniel. “There was a bloke named Stewart Cavendish in London, and a fellow from a British family here in California, named Zack Pendley.” Daniel’s face darkens; I sense he’s angry. “Both of them led Alice along, and ran out on her at the last moment. She had been walking on air, speaking French or Spanish or German indiscriminately for weeks at a time. Then the guys left her—Stewart when she was 19 and Zack when she was 26. For years after each kiss-off, she wouldn’t even acknowledge other languages and she even tried to drop her British accent.” Arthur and Daniel frown ruefully at these memories; they had, as I have observed, been fiercely loyal brothers, ready to defend their younger sister when they felt she needed it.

I decide not to bring this up to Alice immediately. If she has a serious intent such as Arthur and Daniel described, she’ll tell me herself, soon enough. I decide to keep quiet about what her brothers have said but if she questions me directly I won’t lie about it.
Now we talk about other matters. They tell me more about their soccer team; I tell them, carefully, about the incident with Minerva Calley’s gunmen. They are wide-eyed with shock when I mention the armed threat; then they collapse in laughter when I mention Loochy, the floor oil, and their wives’ appearance on the scene. I tell them only what a passerby—and there were plenty of them—saw. Out of loyalty to the DXM League I don’t go into detail, nor do I mention the telepathy, the psychokinesis, or the reason for the excavation in Guzman’s back lot.

Now Eloise—who herself now inspires some muttered sexist compliments from the Terwilliger brothers—approaches and calls on me to go on stage. After some vocalises, with Jane Bradley at the piano (I just wonder what Arthur and Daniel have said about her), I sing “Fer the Good Times,” and Arthur and Daniel bust up laughing at the lyrics—ironically, Homer and Jethro’s lyrics describe a marital relationship, supposedly an odd choice after what the brothers told me. I also observe that the brothers—who had told me Alice is completely at ease with me now, relieved with the contrast from her stormy past—seem to have accepted me fully as well.

My song is over; the group applauds. Buster, sitting in a seat in the middle of the front row (having been successful, I assume, in his mouse hunt), acknowledges me as only a feline critic could do.
Now Eloise calls Alice herself onto the stage. I sit in the front row, next to Buster. Her brothers are not in the stage area, so far as I can see. The lighting on the stage changes. Jane, whose facial expression tells me “You’re going to want to hear this,” plays a short arpeggio. Alice stands at center downstage and fixes her big brown eyes—and her undivided attention—on me.

[NDP]

With a vocal style that is soulful and resonant but still subtle, she then begins to sing.

*Like the beat beat beat of the tom-tom
When the jungle shadows fall
Like the tick tick tock of the stately clock
As it stands against the wall

Like the drip drip drip of the raindrops
When the summer shower is through
So a voice within me keeps repeating you, you, you*

I know this song. I’ve heard it sung many times before by many singers. Yet, as Alice finishes the song’s introduction, I have the sense this particular performance is going to bowl me over more than any I’ve ever heard.

Night and day, you are the one
You are the one
Only you beneath the moon and under the sun…

Alice continues through the Cole Porter standard and I feel myself getting steadily weaker. I am completely absorbed by every syllable she pronounces. At the same time, a rush of endorphins overwhelms my entire nervous system.

And its torment won’t be through
'Til you let me spend life making love to you
Day and night
Night and day

Alice completes her performance and, assuming a deadpan expression, walks off the stage and into the audience where she sits by me.

I cannot move and cannot talk.

Eloise speaks up and says to us…

[dougie_monty]

“Alice, you are certainly telling ______ something that he should have no difficulty understanding…”
I don’t doubt Eloise for a moment. Alice has expressed herself to me without words, or aside from the words she is speaking, so many times that I would have to be a complete dolt not to understand her—what she was saying between the lines of her song. And knowing Eloise as I do—she of the long, happy marriage to Jack…

Alice has seen how I decline the overtures made by such as Jeanette Strong and Harriet McKenna, and even Brenda Sharp, Eloise’s eldest daughter. By singing “Night and Day” the way she did, Alice has spread the frosting on the cake.
Now, she and I just sit side by side, quietly, with arms over each other’s shoulders, her left over my right. It’s rare she would sit to my right and thus have our dominant arms together. This is as clear an implicit statement of love and devotion as anyone could muster. We don’t even have to face each other. We are communicating with gestures—“body language”—and, of course, we’re indulging in telepathic small talk, “sweet nothings” and silly little jokes.

Now this phase of the rehearsals is over; the dress rehearsals will start tomorrow, while the steering committee provides me with a handwritten draft of the program, that I’ll key up on a word processor. Harry Rudolph has continued preparing advertising and publicity; George Galloway and Phoebe Atwood have been making arrangements with the college.
We had gone to the Morpheus this last time in the Sharps’ big van. Alice was driving and I was in the front passenger seat, with several others in the back. Now Jack and Eloise are in the front, with their minor children in the middle; Alice and I sit in the far back. We don’t take our eyes off each other, and don’t say a word; our eyes are swimming with tears.

We get to the Sharps’ place. Fred has to prod Alice and me to get out. We go inside; Lupe says dinner will be ready in about two hours. We go upstairs, to Bedroom No. 35. On the way we pick up some mail: My FAA hearing has been rescheduled, and will take place sometime after the benefit; and Alice and I get replies from friends and relatives we’ve told about the performance. Also, Ms. McKenna has sent us copies of a preliminary evaluation she and her superiors have made about the damage claims.

But this moment is to be ours alone. While Olivia and Thalia stay downstairs with the others, focusing their attention on Carl and Eddie Sharp, and I see Helen and Irwin sitting on a bench in the upstairs hallway , Alice and I go into the bedroom, where we shed our clothes and don bathrobes; we go into the nearest bathroom to shower. After drying off, we redon the robes and go back into the bedroom.

We change into light clothing—similar T-shirts, running shorts, and “go-ahead” sandals. Along with the glasses. We go sit in the big overstuffed chair, with Alice on my lap.

Our emotions have continued to run at a high level, ever since Alice finished her song at the Morpheus and sat down next to me. And now it’s time to speak. As if to emphasize what she wants to say, Alice slips the T-shirt off, exposing her bosom. She wraps her arms around me, and I mine around her, beneath the wings in back. Then she sets her glasses and mine on the night stand, gets almost nose-to-nose with me, and says:

[NDP]

Well … I’m not exactly sure what because it’s in a foreign language I don’t know (although I do think I get the gist of what Alice is getting at.)

I chortle and say, “Excuse me?”

Alice giggles and repeats what she just said in the foreign language.

“English please,” I say with a big grin on my face.

Alice opens her mouth and more foreign words come out. Judging from her tone and expression, she seems to be saying something about how she is speaking English. Beyond that, however, I have no idea of what she’s saying or even what language she’s saying it in.

“Alice, please don’t take this the wrong way,” I tell her, “but I don’t understand you at all. I’m not as adept in foreign languages as you are.”

I see a peeved expression start to take over Alice’s face. She utters some foreign words that express her irritation and pulls away from me. I think she believes this some type of feeble badly timed joke of mine. To prevent her from getting any more mad, I try my telepathic communication with Alice. Unfortunately, I quit after a few minutes because all I get is static and strange sounds.

The irritated look in Alice’s dark brown saucer eyes is giving way to one of fear. She yells something to me that, of course, I can’t make out. I, in an attempt to keep her from panicking, put my hands on her shoulders, look at her eye-to-eye, and calmly tell her…

[dougie_monty]

“Je regrette que tu ne peux pas me comprendre, Alice.”
Suddenly she gives me a puzzled look. I try again.

“Es tut mir leid, dass du verstehest mich nicht.”
She seems less puzzled and more nearly comprehending. I try again.

“Mi bedaŭras, ke vi ne min komprenas.”
Alice blinks. And she sneezes. She says, “Je regrette—Es tut mir—Mi bedaŭras—”

She sneezes again. (She hastily picks up the T-shirt she took off, to use as a napkin.)
“Oh—what happened?” she asks, in plain English.

“You were speaking another languages and you insisted you were speaking English.”
“And it was a language you couldn’t understand?”

“It sure was.” I chortle slightly. “Hey, I supposed you might have been speaking in tongues.”
Alice gets a good laugh from this.

“Oh, I know what it was—I was speaking in Breton! That happened two other times—once when I was in a journalism class, and once at home when Mum and I were listening to the BBC on the radio. Both times someone tried speaking to me in several languages. When they tried Esperanto I ‘snapped out of it,’ as you say.”
“And you never learned Esperanto yourself?”

“Ne, mi neniam—that’s odd! I never took the time to learn Esperanto on my own but now I seem to know the language!”
*“Vi tamen ja konas la lingvon Esperanto!”

“Jes, mi komprenas!”*
I wonder whether Salbert brought this about. Well, I had learned Esperanto myself years before I even met Samantha. Now Alice and I have yet another way to communicate.

“Maybe I can teach you Breton,” she says with a smile.
“You do that,” I answer. I kiss her.

She is still sitting on my lap, with her breasts bare. The misunderstanding has passed, and we resume cuddling, making small talk—and bringing up unfinished business.
“Is Dr. Clouse going to examine Red Nicholas?” Alice asks. “I remember her mentioning that…”

“She may have done that while you and I were on that bus Samantha parked,” I say. Alice nods.
I also tell her I want to make an appointment with Maggie Johnson, the psychiatrist Laura Clouse mentioned, after I had the fainting spell. Alice and I have known Dr. Johnson for years. I’d like to have the session, even as I realize there are things like the DXM League, wings, and the Hellmouth I would do well to leave out.

I mention this to Alice. “Let’s take that up with Dr. Clouse, since she’s a doctor and a DXM person,” she answers. (I also think Laura Clouse may be in the program; the steering committee should have it ready soon.)
I also bring up the upcoming bowling tournament we (and almost everyone else who has been at the Morpheus) have entered in; and the bridal shower Alice has planned for Lorna.

Alice blushes slightly. “Believe it or not, I think they are on the same day—the men’s finals at the same time as the bridal shower, the women’s finals later that same day.”
“And there is such a wonderful woman present.” I say, looking first deep into Alice’s big brown eyes, then glancing at her long, straight auburn hair, then gently caressing her breasts…

“Do vi amu tiun inon,” she says.
(“So love that woman.”)

“Nepre! Mi ŝin amos.” (“Absolutely! I shall love her.”)
I lift Alice off my lap. I stand up; she stands up. I pull her pants down; she pulls mine down. I lie her on the bed and straddle her. We fondle, kiss, and couple, as usual…

Mi amas vin, Alice, … mi amas vin…ohhh…
“Mi amas vin, _______, oh… oh… Ohhhh!!!

“OHHHHHHH!!!”
We reach orgasm. As usual we cry happy tears. We hug and smile and nuzzle each other’s faces.

I remember what Arthur and Daniel told me. Arthur, especially. Alice, so they said, wants to be my wife. But I won’t bring up what her brothers have told me until she specifically asks me to. The last time anyone suggested Alice and I tie the knot was when Professor Fields mentioned it in Eda’s kitchen, when we were there with him. Alice and I blushed deeply. Well, there’s a time and a place for everything…

I hear a short conversation between Helen and Irwin Sharp in the hallway. I wonder what the heck it is with those two… :rolleyes:

Now Alice and I, our intimate session over, shower and put clean clothes on. We go downstairs into the Sharps’ kitchen; Lupe fixes a snack for us. Gwen, Amy, and Lena meet us; so does Dr. Clouse, who is also staying over. We take up some unfinished business.

[dougie_monty]

“Je regrette que tu ne peux pas me comprendre, Alice.”
Suddenly she gives me a puzzled look. I try again.

“Es tut mir leid, dass du verstehest mich nicht.”
She seems less puzzled and more nearly comprehending. I try again.

“Mi bedaŭras, ke vi ne min komprenas.”
Alice blinks. And she sneezes. She says, “Je regrette—Es tut mir—Mi bedaŭras—”

She sneezes again. (She hastily picks up the T-shirt she took off, to use as a napkin.)
“Oh—what happened?” she asks, in plain English.

“You were speaking another languages and you insisted you were speaking English.”
“And it was a language you couldn’t understand?”

“It sure was.” I chortle slightly. “Hey, I supposed you might have been speaking in tongues.”
Alice gets a good laugh from this.

“Oh, I know what it was—I was speaking in Breton! That happened two other times—once when I was in a journalism class, and once at home when Mum and I were listening to the BBC on the radio. Both times someone tried speaking to me in several languages. When they tried Esperanto I ‘snapped out of it,’ as you say.”
“And you never learned Esperanto yourself?”

“Ne, mi neniam—that’s odd! I never took the time to learn Esperanto on my own but now I seem to know the language!”
*“Vi tamen ja konas la lingvon Esperanto!”

“Jes, mi komprenas!”
I wonder whether Salbert brought this about. Well, I had learned Esperanto myself years before I even met Samantha. Now Alice and I have yet another way to communicate.

“Maybe I can teach you Breton,” she says with a smile.
“You do that,” I answer. I kiss her.

She is still sitting on my lap, with her breasts bare. The misunderstanding has passed, and we resume cuddling, making small talk—and bringing up unfinished business.
“Is Dr. Clouse going to examine Red Nicholas?” Alice asks. “I remember her mentioning that…”

“She may have done that while you and I were on that bus Samantha parked,” I say. Alice nods.
I also tell her I want to make an appointment with Maggie Johnson, the psychiatrist Laura Clouse mentioned, after I had the fainting spell. Alice and I have known Dr. Johnson for years. I’d like to have the session, even as I realize there are things like the DXM League, wings, and the Hellmouth I would do well to leave out.

I mention this to Alice. “Let’s take that up with Dr. Clouse, since she’s a doctor and a DXM person,” she answers. (I also think Laura Clouse may be in the program; the steering committee should have it ready soon.)
I also bring up the upcoming bowling tournament we (and almost everyone else who has been at the Morpheus) have entered in; and the bridal shower Alice has planned for Lorna.

Alice blushes slightly. “Believe it or not, I think they are on the same day—the men’s finals at the same time as the bridal shower, the women’s finals later that same day.”
“And there is such a wonderful woman present.” I say, looking first deep into Alice’s big brown eyes, then glancing at her long, straight auburn hair, then gently caressing her breasts…

“Do vi amu tiun inon,” she says.
(“So love that woman.”)

“Nepre! Mi ŝin amos.” (“Absolutely! I shall love her.”)
I lift Alice off my lap. I stand up; she stands up. I pull her pants down; she pulls mine down. I lie her on the bed and straddle her. We fondle, kiss, and couple, as usual…

Mi amas vin, Alice, … mi amas vin…ohhh…
“Mi amas vin, _______, oh… oh… Ohhhh!!!

“OHHHHHHH!!!”
We reach orgasm. As usual we cry happy tears. We hug and smile and nuzzle each other’s faces.

I remember what Arthur and Daniel told me. Arthur, especially. Alice, so they said, wants to be my wife. But I won’t bring up what her brothers have told me until she specifically asks me to. The last time anyone suggested Alice and I tie the knot was when Professor Fields mentioned it in Eda’s kitchen, when we were there with him. Alice and I blushed deeply. Well, there’s a time and a place for everything…

I hear a short conversation between Helen and Irwin Sharp in the hallway. I wonder what the heck it is with those two… :rolleyes:

Now Alice and I, our intimate session over, shower and put clean clothes on. We go downstairs into the Sharps’ kitchen; Lupe fixes a snack for us. Gwen, Amy, and Lena meet us; so does Dr. Clouse, who is also staying over. We take up some unfinished business.

[dougie_monty]

“Je regrette que tu ne peux pas me comprendre, Alice.”
Suddenly she gives me a puzzled look. I try again.

“Es tut mir leid, dass du verstehest mich nicht.”
She seems less puzzled and more nearly comprehending. I try again.

“Mi bedaŭras, ke vi ne min komprenas.”
Alice blinks. And she sneezes. She says, “Je regrette—Es tut mir—Mi bedaŭras—”

She sneezes again. (She hastily picks up the T-shirt she took off, to use as a napkin.)
“Oh—what happened?” she asks, in plain English.

“You were speaking another languages and you insisted you were speaking English.”
“And it was a language you couldn’t understand?”

“It sure was.” I chortle slightly. “Hey, I supposed you might have been speaking in tongues.”
Alice gets a good laugh from this.

“Oh, I know what it was—I was speaking in Breton! That happened two other times—once when I was in a journalism class, and once at home when Mum and I were listening to the BBC on the radio. Both times someone tried speaking to me in several languages. When they tried Esperanto I ‘snapped out of it,’ as you say.”
“And you never learned Esperanto yourself?”

“Ne, mi neniam—that’s odd! I never took the time to learn Esperanto on my own but now I seem to know the language!”
*“Vi tamen ja konas la lingvon Esperanto!”

“Jes, mi komprenas!”
I wonder whether Salbert brought this about. Well, I had learned Esperanto myself years before I even met Samantha. Now Alice and I have yet another way to communicate.

“Maybe I can teach you Breton,” she says with a smile.
“You do that,” I answer. I kiss her.

She is still sitting on my lap, with her breasts bare. The misunderstanding has passed, and we resume cuddling, making small talk—and bringing up unfinished business.
“Is Dr. Clouse going to examine Red Nicholas?” Alice asks. “I remember her mentioning that…”

“She may have done that while you and I were on that bus Samantha parked,” I say. Alice nods.
I also tell her I want to make an appointment with Maggie Johnson, the psychiatrist Laura Clouse mentioned, after I had the fainting spell. Alice and I have known Dr. Johnson for years. I’d like to have the session, even as I realize there are things like the DXM League, wings, and the Hellmouth I would do well to leave out.

I mention this to Alice. “Let’s take that up with Dr. Clouse, since she’s a doctor and a DXM person,” she answers. (I also think Laura Clouse may be in the program; the steering committee should have it ready soon.)
I also bring up the upcoming bowling tournament we (and almost everyone else who has been at the Morpheus) have entered in; and the bridal shower Alice has planned for Lorna.

Alice blushes slightly. “Believe it or not, I think they are on the same day—the men’s finals at the same time as the bridal shower, the women’s finals later that same day.”
“And there is such a wonderful woman present.” I say, looking first deep into Alice’s big brown eyes, then glancing at her long, straight auburn hair, then gently caressing her breasts…

“Do vi amu tiun inon,” she says.
(“So love that woman.”)

“Nepre! Mi ŝin amos.” (“Absolutely! I shall love her.”)
I lift Alice off my lap. I stand up; she stands up. I pull her pants down; she pulls mine down. I lie her on the bed and straddle her. We fondle, kiss, and couple, as usual…

Mi amas vin, Alice, … mi amas vin…ohhh…
“Mi amas vin, _______, oh… oh… Ohhhh!!!

“OHHHHHHH!!!”
We reach orgasm. As usual we cry happy tears. We hug and smile and nuzzle each other’s faces.

I remember what Arthur and Daniel told me. Arthur, especially. Alice, so they said, wants to be my wife. But I won’t bring up what her brothers have told me until she specifically asks me to. The last time anyone suggested Alice and I tie the knot was when Professor Fields mentioned it in Eda’s kitchen, when we were there with him. Alice and I blushed deeply. Well, there’s a time and a place for everything…

I hear a short conversation between Helen and Irwin Sharp in the hallway. I wonder what the heck it is with those two… :rolleyes:

Now Alice and I, our intimate session over, shower and put clean clothes on. We go downstairs into the Sharps’ kitchen; Lupe fixes a snack for us. Gwen, Amy, and Lena meet us; so does Dr. Clouse, who is also staying over. We take up some unfinished business.

[dougie_monty]

“Je regrette que tu ne peux pas me comprendre, Alice.”
Suddenly she gives me a puzzled look. I try again.

“Es tut mir leid, dass du verstehest mich nicht.”
She seems less puzzled and more nearly comprehending. I try again.

“Mi bedaŭras, ke vi ne min komprenas.”
Alice blinks. And she sneezes. She says, “Je regrette—Es tut mir—Mi bedaŭras—”

She sneezes again. (She hastily picks up the T-shirt she took off, to use as a napkin.)
“Oh—what happened?” she asks, in plain English.

“You were speaking another languages and you insisted you were speaking English.”
“And it was a language you couldn’t understand?”

“It sure was.” I chortle slightly. “Hey, I supposed you might have been speaking in tongues.”
Alice gets a good laugh from this.

“Oh, I know what it was—I was speaking in Breton! That happened two other times—once when I was in a journalism class, and once at home when Mum and I were listening to the BBC on the radio. Both times someone tried speaking to me in several languages. When they tried Esperanto I ‘snapped out of it,’ as you say.”
“And you never learned Esperanto yourself?”

“Ne, mi neniam—that’s odd! I never took the time to learn Esperanto on my own but now I seem to know the language!”
*“Vi tamen ja konas la lingvon Esperanto!”

“Jes, mi komprenas!”
I wonder whether Salbert brought this about. Well, I had learned Esperanto myself years before I even met Samantha. Now Alice and I have yet another way to communicate.

“Maybe I can teach you Breton,” she says with a smile.
“You do that,” I answer. I kiss her.

She is still sitting on my lap, with her breasts bare. The misunderstanding has passed, and we resume cuddling, making small talk—and bringing up unfinished business.
“Is Dr. Clouse going to examine Red Nicholas?” Alice asks. “I remember her mentioning that…”

“She may have done that while you and I were on that bus Samantha parked,” I say. Alice nods.
I also tell her I want to make an appointment with Maggie Johnson, the psychiatrist Laura Clouse mentioned, after I had the fainting spell. Alice and I have known Dr. Johnson for years. I’d like to have the session, even as I realize there are things like the DXM League, wings, and the Hellmouth I would do well to leave out.

I mention this to Alice. “Let’s take that up with Dr. Clouse, since she’s a doctor and a DXM person,” she answers. (I also think Laura Clouse may be in the program; the steering committee should have it ready soon.)
I also bring up the upcoming bowling tournament we (and almost everyone else who has been at the Morpheus) have entered in; and the bridal shower Alice has planned for Lorna.

Alice blushes slightly. “Believe it or not, I think they are on the same day—the men’s finals at the same time as the bridal shower, the women’s finals later that same day.”
“And there is such a wonderful woman present.” I say, looking first deep into Alice’s big brown eyes, then glancing at her long, straight auburn hair, then gently caressing her breasts…

“Do vi amu tiun inon,” she says.
(“So love that woman.”)

“Nepre! Mi ŝin amos.” (“Absolutely! I shall love her.”)
I lift Alice off my lap. I stand up; she stands up. I pull her pants down; she pulls mine down. I lie her on the bed and straddle her. We fondle, kiss, and couple, as usual…

Mi amas vin, Alice, … mi amas vin…ohhh…
“Mi amas vin, _______, oh… oh… Ohhhh!!!

“OHHHHHHH!!!”
We reach orgasm. As usual we cry happy tears. We hug and smile and nuzzle each other’s faces.

I remember what Arthur and Daniel told me. Arthur, especially. Alice, so they said, wants to be my wife. But I won’t bring up what her brothers have told me until she specifically asks me to. The last time anyone suggested Alice and I tie the knot was when Professor Fields mentioned it in Eda’s kitchen, when we were there with him. Alice and I blushed deeply. Well, there’s a time and a place for everything…

I hear a short conversation between Helen and Irwin Sharp in the hallway. I wonder what the heck it is with those two… :rolleyes:

Now Alice and I, our intimate session over, shower and put clean clothes on. We go downstairs into the Sharps’ kitchen; Lupe fixes a snack for us. Gwen, Amy, and Lena meet us; so does Dr. Clouse, who is also staying over. We take up some unfinished business.

[dougie_monty]

I apologize for this posting appearing more than once. I had no success getting an acknowledgment, let alone the posting itself, to appear on my screen. For some reason the server acts like it has lumbago… :mad:

[NDP]

“Alice and I were wondering,” I ask Dr. Clouse, “but did you ever get a chance to examine Red Nicholas?”

“I did but the exam was interrupted when the FBI came storming through the Morpheus,” she answers. “I’ll have to complete it later if I can find some way to access to Red now that he’s back down in the sub-basement.”

“Did you find out anything?” Alice inquires.

“Well, the results of the limited number of tests that I did run haven’t come back yet. However, I do think I know why Red keeps on living.”

“How?”

“For some reason, his body seems to be in a state of near-stasis. His cells can withstand far more damage than a typical human being and they last a lot longer.”

“Any idea on why that is?”

“Without delving into some type of mystical mumbo-jumbo, I have no rational scientific theories yet. Maybe when I get the test results back or when I complete the exam I’ll have a better idea. Also, there is one other obvious thing I noticed about Red?”

“Let me guess: he’s prone to addictions.”

“You’re right on the nose. Although I didn’t really notice him exhibit such behavior, past history indicates Red Nicholas is a rather cunning and ruthless character. However, once addicted to certain things-- like opium or television–he becomes so obsessed with that particular thing that he’s distracted from whatever devious and underhanded schemes he might’ve been planning.”

“That’s definitely true,” Salbert says upon entering the kitchen. “I’ve been reading that book ____ found in the upper reaches of the Morpheus and it indicates that’s how they trapped Red in the sub-basement over 100 years ago.”

“I was going to ask about that book I found,” I state. “Is there anything else good in it?”

“Oh, there’s a lot,” Salbert continues. "For one thing…

[NDP]

[:smack: Error. The eighth paragraph should read:]

“Without delving into some type of mystical mumbo-jumbo, I have no rational scientific theories yet. Maybe when I get the test results back or when I complete the exam I’ll have a better idea. Also, there is one other obvious thing I noticed about Red**.**”

[dougie_monty]

“Nicholas picked up some data on longevity from people in various regions where he exchanged his gold for gems.”
“You mean like the ginseng in the area of China where he was raised?” I ask. “”Since he grew up in Yunan Province…”

“That’s in there,” says Salbert. “Nicholas also went to India, of course. He was intrigued by the throngs who have bathed in the Ganges for centuries, and used it both as a sewer and as a source of drinking water, with out much apparent ill effect. He gleaned stuff like this from all over the world. And that doesn’t even touch on his notions about sexual prowess…”
“Such as rhinoceros horn?” asks Dr. Clouse facetiously.

“Nope,” Salbert answers. “Nicholas knew a myth when he saw one. All those fake love potions are mentioned in the book—and all are repudiated.
“And Nicholas’ own descendants are listed—but only down to 1920, which may be the specific year in which he went into hiding; I’m not sure.”

“Show me the list and I’ll give the information to my sister Janet,” I say. “She lives in Utah, and she may be able to extend the list to the current period.”
“Utah?” asks Dr. Clouse. “Is your sister a Mormon?”

“No. She just lives in Utah, with her husband and a large dog. She has two kids in California—a son in Irvine and a daughter in Placer County. Both have married.”
The book is in fact quite absorbing. Salbert, Alice, and I realize we could sit there all day reading and discussing it, but we don’t have time. Salbert gives the book to Alice and me, so we can copy pages from it (it has no copyright date) and use the photocopies and thus not subject the original to undue wear.

Now Alice and I excuse ourselves, at my suggestion, and go out into the hall.
“I’m going to want to make that appointment with Dr. Maggie Johnson, Laura’s medical colleague, who is a psychiatrist,” I say. “But we’d better ask Laura about it—what things I should leave out.” Alice agrees to take this up with Dr. Clouse, before I make the appointment. I also think about asking Alice to make an appointment for herself, concerning her bizarre language mental block. But I’m tactful enough to keep quiet.

We return to the kitchen. Eloise has come in, to discuss the day’s cooking with Lupe. Then Jeanette swivels in, wearing a heavy pink corduroy bathrobe, long woolen nightgown, and fuzzy green bedroom slippers. (I dismiss the thought that she slept in a fuzzy green bedroom. ) She carries one of her flannel dresses, which seems dirty and smelly.
“Eloise,” she asks, “Is there a dry cleaner around here?”

“Yes, Zuckerman and Son, on 12th Street, about a mile away.”
Suddenly I fix my ESP on Lupe, who looks at Jeanette in an odd manner. The pudgy cook apparently considers the six-foot blonde to be ridiculous and over-shapely. And Jeanette’s deep contralto voice doesn’t help.

“Virón,” Lupe thinks. I know that means Lupe believes Jeanette is a man in drag. :rolleyes:
To get out of this awkward moment I say to Alice, “I remember you said you wanted to plan Lorna’s bridal shower.”

“Oh, that’s right,” she says. She and Jeanette and the others start discussing this. As a male, I don’t fit in. I start to excuse myself and, after Alice and I exchange pecks on the cheek, I leave the kitchen and go into the den.
I pick up a book on bowling techniques from the mini-library in the den. I also select a copy of the paperback Son of MAD, which includes an early spoof of bowling, nuttily illustrated by Jack Davis. Obviously Alice’s planning session will keep her and the other women (Lupe included) occupied for a little while.

In the den, I’m joined by Jack Sharp, Bob Blonda, George Galloway, and Samantha—and Lorna. Good. If she’s with me she won’t hear the plans Alice and the other women in the kitchen are making. (Jock is on duty.)
We in the den start to discuss the bowling tourney. All of the others in the den (and Alice and her group as well) have been in tournaments at the House of Tracy; Samantha, for example, has scored three perfect games. And so on.

Now Susan Bradley, Eloise’s 20-year-old daughter Frances, April Blonda, and Claudia join us. All are attractive young girls. They wear very ordinary clothing—blouses and slacks, and light shoes. All seem to have pixieish facial expressions—like they want to pull a prank. And Buster appears, sitting calmly on a short bookcase, apparently just to be present and look at me. He isn’t here to relay a message to me this time.

Susan Bradley, as much of a beauty as her mother Jane, approaches me with Claudia. The two girls smirk. Claudia signs to Susan, who seems just about to laugh.
I tune in on Alice with my ESP; she and the group in the kitchen are still making shower plans.

Now Susan, in a voice much like Jane’s, says to me…

[NDP]

“Claudia and I were wondering about Alice. It seems as though there’s some type of wild rumor going around about her.”

“What’s that?” I ask despite my reluctance to get involved in gossip.

“Well, I don’t know how to say this, but there’s buzz going around that she has some things that women don’t normally have.”

“Look,” I say with a flustered tone. "If you have any doubts about her gender, I can tell you that–

“No, no. Not that. I’m not wording this properly. What I mean is that she has something on her back. Something that you expect to see on fairies or pixies but not humans.”

Susan’s obviously talking about Alice’s wings but I don’t want to let on that I know what she’s talking about.

“You’re getting awfully strange Susan,” I say with a blank expression. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Susan hestitates and then finally says,"This is the way I heard it…

[dougie_monty]

“…Claudia was looking at Alice’s back a little while ago and puzzled over the strange bulge around the shoulder blades, under Alice’s robe. She said it looked as if Alice had something like wings on her back.”
The other girls giggle a little. They don’t want to offend me, knowing how highly I regard their mothers. (With Claudia it’s probably what she knows about my efforts to contact Nicholas.)

I sidestep the question. “Perhaps you should take this up with Alice—”
“Just a minute, ______,” says Samantha, who has been listening for a few seconds. “I think all of you should be more careful about what you say about people who are not present. Come over here with me and I’ll discuss this with you.”

I’ll convince them to leave Alice and her wings alone, Samantha tells me telepathically.
Please be diplomatic, I reply. Samantha’s expression assures me she will do so. She has Susan, Claudia, and the other girls join her at a table across the room.

Thanks, Samantha, I owe you one.
She acknowledges.

Now I discuss the bowling tourney with Jack Sharp, Bob Blonda, and Mr. Galloway. They’re all experienced bowlers; Bob especially, with a 240 average! Alice has bowled there too—I saw pictures of her, taken at the House of Tracy—and I bet she too has bowled a perfect game a time or two.
I return to the kitchen. Alice has finished her discussion of the planned bridal shower, and now only she and Gwen remain at the table. Lupe gets me some coffee and asks what I’d like for breakfast. I ask for ham and eggs, please. She nods. Alice nibbles absently at a slice of toast. Gwen has eaten two apples—the cores are still on the table. She now sips a glass of water.

I feel Alice lightly tapping my ankle with her bare foot under the table. She’s still in bathrobe, nightie, and fuzzy pink bedroom slippers—well, one, anyway, now. I blush. Gwen realizes Alice is playing “footsie” with me under the table and snickers. Even I can’t keep a straight face.
Now Jeanette returns to the kitchen. She wears roomy white slacks and a light blue pullover, along with white Nike sneakers. Lupe sees her and says, ¡“El femenino!” (“The effeminate man!”)

Jeanette has apparently had enough of Lupe’s attitude. She steps over to Lupe and suddenly lifts her pullover in front, to expose her massive breasts.

• “¡Ay! ¡La mujer fornida!”* cries Lupe; her remark means “statuesque woman!” Jeanette emphasizes the point by saying, “Yo no soy virón, Lupe.”

Lupe apologizes in Spanish.
She says, “Lo siento, Jeanette. Yo no lo hubiera creido!”

All of us present know enough Spanish to understand: It was an honest mistake.
In any case, Jeanette feels her point has been made. She now sits down and asks Lupe for oatmeal.

Alice asks Jeanette, “Are there a lot of people in your audiences who make the mistake Lupe made?” Alice is still poking my leg with her foot. Gwen is still at the table and notices my blushing. And I don’t dare stand up. :o
“Not really,” Jeanette answers. “Mostly it’s men getting hard when they see me.”

I reminisce briefly about my dates with Jeanette. She did not impress me as an effeminate man. And now I will not emphasize my awareness of Jeanette’s femininity at the potential expense of Alice’s feelings. Especially since Alice is present and I know she can read my thoughts.
Alice has finished her breakfast and she gently clasps my left arm with her right hand. Good. So far as I can tell I haven’t offended her.

Jeanette gets her oatmeal and coffee. Gwen excuses herself.
Now Alice gives me a telepathic message. I obey and stand up, with my back to Gwen and Jeanette. Alice had been playing footsie with me but now she snickers and boldly unfastens the snap on my fly, allowing my hardon to pop out for a moment! :eek:

Then she whispers, with a wink, “I want some. I’ll meet you in the bedroom in an hour.” I make myself decent; I give Alice a hug and kiss.
She leaves the kitchen. Lupe tends to the dishes, at the far end of the room. Now it’s just Jeanette and me at the table. She acts more like a confidant now, or a sister, instead of a woman I used to date.

“I saw you blushing,” she says. “Alice must have been playing ‘footie’ with you under the table…”
I’m a little surprised, but I admit it. I know Jeanette uses mental telepathy, of course.

“Don’t worry,” she continues. “I wasn’t reading your minds. I saw you blushing and, hey, you’re not a callow adolescent and Alice was dressed modestly. [Who should know better? :p]
“So a lot of guys notice the way you look onstage, and react?” I ask, steering the conversation away from Alice.

“They do,” Jeanette answers. “But when they get close and see how big I am, they back off. They’d just as soon not tilt with a six-foot woman!”
Lupe glances back, and shakes her head slightly.

“But I can’t match Alice or Gwen or Hermione—I don’t have wings.” Jeanette is speaking in a soft voice so only I can hear her. Lupe has left the room.
“You know about that?” I ask in surprise.

“Sure. Alice told me. Well, actually, she and Gwen and Hermione showed me. We were in the women’s showers at the Morpheus—just the four of us—and I saw Alice’s wings. Then I saw Gwen’s and Hermione’s. That’s impressive. I’ve had reviews commenting on my ‘unique figure’ but I can’t match wings.
“And oh, yes—this was after Alice knew I was with the DXM League. [I *knew* that wasn’t a Green Lantern ring!] Of course, she found out the same time you did about my mental telepathy.”

Well, Jeanette knows now. The saving grace is that she can be trusted with secrets—no matter how much of a tramp she has been.
Now Samantha and Fred come into the kitchen. Lupe is finished with her morning chores and has not returned to the kitchen. Buster trots in and leaps onto the counter close to the table.

Samantha has finished talking to Susan and the other girls about what they think they know about Alice’s wings. Now she prepares to tell me what transpired.
Fred also has some news—good news, from his expression. It has to do with the people we’ve been crossing swords with lately. He says it’s something I’ll “be delighted to know.” He speaks first.

[NDP]

“Good news everyone. I just got word from Montana that Maya Kalp’s condition has improved and she’s going to testify against Victor Lemoyne and Lady Minerva Calley.”

“That is good to know,” I say. “So much for unity among the former Sikes-Potter backers.”

“I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that apparently Kalp thinks Calley was behind her assault,” Fred continues. “And she may be right.”

“Have they found that methhead and that guy who sprang him yet?”

“No, but a lot of questions will be answered when they do.”

Samantha breaks in. "This is unrelated, but there’s something I want to tell you ____, " she says. "I just talked to the girls and…